


I Won't Let You Fall Tonight

by Lion_owl



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Episode: s01e08 Si Vis Pacem Para Bellum, F/F, l'rell isn't in it she's just mentioned briefly, published before episode 9 aired, references to past lorca/cornwell, she's not really dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-08
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2019-01-31 02:16:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12666240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lion_owl/pseuds/Lion_owl
Summary: Katrina thinks she died in the fight with L'Rell, but death is not what she expected it to be.





	I Won't Let You Fall Tonight

“She’s waking up,” a voice said, and it sounded familiar but she couldn’t place it as a room that looks like a Starfleet sickbay swam into focus. “Are you okay?” a man asked. He’s dressed in pristine white medical robes and her mind belatedly placed him as Dr Hugh Culber of the USS Discovery. Gabriel’s ship. By god when she gets her hands on that bastard…  

“How did I get here?” she asked, and the memories of fighting L’Rell in the halls of the Klingon ship come back to her, of being slammed into a bulkhead and electricity coursing through her body; landing hard on the floor and L’Rell dragging her away. “I thought I was dead.”

“Now it would be a bit difficult for us to have this conversation if you were, wouldn’t it?” Culber almost _snickered_ , and she narrowed her eyes at him –  it was an unprofessional reaction to say the least. He continued: “would you believe me if I told you Lorca mounted a heroic rescue mission… after you threatened to take away his command?”

“How would you know about that?” she demanded.

“Get away from her,” commanded another voice, and this was one that she could recognise anywhere. It couldn’t be. Philippa had been dead for nearly eight months. Culber stepped back, but only a short way.

“You need to get rid of him, Katrina,” Philippa told her.

“How do I do that?” she asked helplessly.

“You need to banish him. Tell him you don’t want him here.”

“It’s Dr Culber!” If Katrina were to describe herself as confused right now, it would be more than an understatement.

“It just looks like Culber,” Philippa said. “It’s not real; only you can banish the demons of your own mind.”

“It’s a demon?” She paused and shook her head. “No.”

“Not an actual demon. Metaphorically.”

“Oh.” She felt weak, and she was sure it came across in her voice. Culber, or at least the facsimile of him, had at this point started laughing hysterically and she had to admit her predicament did seem funny: a few weeks ago she’d been captured by Klingons, then one of them had pretended to interrogate her and offered to help her escape in return for being taken as a prisoner of war (which from what she knew of Klingons, they’d rather die than be taken captive) then proceeded to beat her up and ostensibly kill her, and now she had inexplicably escaped and lying on a biobed and her dead wife was there telling her that her doctor was a metaphorical demon only she could vanquish.

Okay maybe it wasn’t exactly _funny_ , but she could certainly see why Culber was laughing.

“You need to concentrate, Katrina.” Philippa encouraged.

She did, closing her eyes and focusing on the comfort she took from having her beside her again, even if she wasn’t convinced it was real, focusing on her voice as the laughter died down. When she opened her eyes again, he was gone.

“And what about you,” she turned to Philippa, slowly and with great pain sitting up “are you a figment of my imagination as well?”

“No,” Philippa smiled warmly and walked over to perch on the side of the biobed, embracing her. “It’s really me.”

Letting logic fly out of the window, Katrina succumbs to her desire sink into the embrace, holding her tight. “I’ve missed you so much,” she whispered.

They sat like that for a long time – minutes, months, Katrina wouldn’t have known any different – before her brain started working again. “So, if you’re really you,” she said as she dragged herself away. “does that mean I’m dead too? I never really believed in an afterlife.”

“Oh, love” Philippa smiled, almost sadly. “It’s not quite as simple as that. I have a lot to explain to you.”

Katrina groaned. “I’m not going to like this, am I? I don’t want to lose you a second time.”

“Walk with me,” Philippa offered her hand and stood, pulling her to her feet, and kept a hold of her hand as they left sickbay, walking through the corridors of Discovery, which were empty as a further testament to the fact that none of this was real in any way she might have expected it to be.

They walked in silence for a while, relishing in each other’s closeness after so much time apart, and it was comforting in a way Gabriel could never be. She idly wondered if Philippa somehow knew about their liaison that night before she was captured by Klingons; a night fuelled by alcohol, nostalgia for a youthful love that had no place in their world as it was now, and the stress of the war that was causing them both to make bad decisions. Surely Philippa wouldn’t hold it against her: after all, her wife had been dead at the time, or at least she had thought… or whatever? And it wasn’t like there’d been any feelings involved last night. And then that bastard had sent her right off to die.

At first she’d told herself that he was simply taking her advice for once, had taken a step back and let her take over a mission that prior to their disastrous encounter he would have impulsively taken on himself, which is probably what she would have suggested if he’d tried. And there was still no conclusive proof that theory was incorrect, but the long days and nights spent languishing in that dark, dirty prison cell had allowed the bitterness to whisper in her ear that he set her up to save his own skin after she threatened to take his captaincy from him. To be fair, she didn’t have any conclusive proof _that_ theory was incorrect either.

“I’m just dreaming all of this,” she decided aloud. “You’re not really here.”

“Listen to me,” Philippa stopped walking and put a hand out to halt Katrina too, and stepped close to her, their faces nearly touching. “Let me explain everything, and then if you want I’ll show you just how real I am.”

“You feel real,” Katrina said, lifting a hand to caress her wife’s cheek. “But how can you be, if you are – if we are – dead?”

“We’re not exactly _dead_ as Humans tend to understand the concept.” Philippa gestured towards a door in front of which they had stopped, and it opened to reveal a room that was certainly not found on a starship: light poured in through the large french windows, the pale green curtains which were drawn back to reveal a large balcony and a mountainous view dotted with lochs. The room itself was plain but tasteful with its natural colours and soft upholstery, a large bed in the middle and a wardrobe and table across the far wall.

It was the suite they had stayed in on the night of their wedding.

“How did we…” Katrina trailed off, looking around in wonderment.

“Get here?” Philippa supplied “our minds brought us to the place we wanted to be.”

“That’s how my brother always envisioned the afterlife would be: exactly how you wanted it. If he’s right that explains why I’m here with you.”

“What did you envision?” Philippa asked, reaching up to untie her hair.

“Here, let me,” Katrina gently pushed her hand away, untangling the band and rearranging her hair behind her shoulders. “I never really believed in one. Never had time to dwell on such matters.”

“You have time now,” Philippa said. “We could spend an eternity here before you have to go back to the other realm.”

Katrina laughed then “realm? That doesn’t sound very scientific.”

“Whatever you want to call it. It’s more like an alternate dimension than a life after death and it’s possible to travel between the two freely, but it’s generally not etiquette.”

“You’re… this doesn’t make a lot of sense to me.” Katrina admitted. Her head was beginning to spin and she closed her eyes against it, a palm to her forehead for a moment. Philippa opened one of the doors to allow the fresh, cool air to flow into the room, and she was grateful for that, but she instantly missed her the moment she left her side.

“Philippa…” she could hear the sadness in her own voice.

“What’s wrong?” she came back to her side, and guided her over to the bed and they lay down atop the quilt, gathered up in each other’s arms, and Katrina couldn’t remember feeling this vulnerable in a very long time.

“In many theisms and spiritualisms it’s believed the dead can look down on their living family and friends. Is that true here? have you been watching us the last few months?”  

“No I haven’t. Has something happened? Is Michael okay?” Philippa immediately sounded worried.

“She’s fine actually, she’s…” Katrina didn’t really know what to say here. She still didn’t fully agree with Lorca’s decision to keep her on Discovery as a specialist, but she wasn’t sure if Philippa would want to hear her admit that, in fact, she had no idea what Philippa’s current thoughts were on the actions Michael had taken that ultimately led to her demise; Katrina was still a little bitter about it, but she had done her utmost not to let it cloud her professional judgement one way or another, and it was obvious Philippa still cared deeply for the woman she’d taken in and who had become like a surrogate daughter to her. “She’s doing well.”

Philippa smiled a melancholy smile, but to Katrina’s relief she didn’t push the subject. “What’s bothering you then.”

“I slept with Gabriel,” she spoke fast, as if the words burned her tongue. It felt wrong talking about him here, with her wife, in this place that felt like it could be paradise, but she didn’t want to keep it from her. “I’m sorry, it was… I know I nearly asked him to marry me back at the academy but that was years before I met you and I promise I don’t still love him.”

She hadn’t felt the tears trickling down her face until Philippa gently wiped them away, and like a cartoon character realising they’d just run off a cliff, they now scorched her cheeks and unloaded all the anger, the frustration and fear she was feeling, and the weight of an Admiral’s responsibility pressing heavy on her shoulders.

“Do you forgive me?” she asked.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Philippa assured her. “I was dead, remember.” and then she kissed her, the saltiness of the tears on her lips in no way negating the sweetness of it, the nostalgia, and Katrina wondered what they’d been waiting for. After all those months, apart…

“I don’t want to go back,” Katrina whispered when they parted. “I need a break. I want to stay here with you. I know I shouldn’t. I have a job to do and a war to win, but I want to stay. If I’m dead, do I really have to fight back against that as well?”

“You’re not dead yet, Katrina,” Philippa said, smoothing Katrina’s mussed hair. “You’re on the brink of death. You were brought here temporarily so the energy of this realm could heal your body.”

“You’re back to making no sense.” Katrina wound her arms around Phillipa’s waist, pulling her as close as she could, as if it would stop them from ever being torn apart again.

“You have to go and win the war, my love, it would be selfish of me to ask you to stay no matter how much I want you to.”

“Then come with me.” Katrina suggested. “You said you could travel between these realms, dimensions, whatever. If I can’t stay here then can’t you at least come back with me?”

“I’m not sure if I should. Like I said...”

“Afterlife etiquette be damned,” her voice came out rougher than she intended. “please,” she added, more softly.

“When this realm is ready to keep you you’ll understand why it would be dangerous.”

“You’re younger than me!” She protested. “If it isn’t ready for me why should it be ready for you?”

The room was beginning to fade. She could feel it, and she want to kick, to scream and dig her heels in and refuse to ever let go of it. Philippa said something, but the words sounded muffled as the light faded from between them.

And then she was back on the Klingon ship; dark and musty, tortured screams reverberating down the corridor to the room she found herself in, a pile of bodies in front of her. She had a solid stomach but even this sight was enough to nearly make her throw up. L’Rell was nowhere to be seen. Figured.

“Guess I’ll have to figure out my own escape route then,” she muttered to herself. Pulling herself into a kneeling position to find a hand out to help her to her feet.

“Not quite alone,” a beloved voice promised, and she looked up to see Philippa smiling at her. Despite everything she felt a burst of happiness, and indulged in the laughter that wanted to explode out of her.

“You came.”

**Author's Note:**

> I was thinking about Q commenting in tng that life and death aren't as static as humans believe it to be, and that's what sparked the idea. the 'afterlife' place was partially inspired by elements of the nexus from vii: generations. in my head this place is timeless so dead characters from all iterations of trek can all hang out there
> 
> title was taken from '[fallen angel](https://youtu.be/19hGDBvl0_Y)' by three days grace
> 
> please leave a comment and let me know what you think!


End file.
